Maneas Mihi Vobiscum: Stay, I Need You
by SednaFaux
Summary: Albus lives in a world where- despite his genius- he isn't good enough. He is ridiculed for being himself and rejected by his friends and even his own mother; yet maybe in the arms of another, everything could be righted. Galbus attept :D te esso
1. Chapter 1

**'Heeeeelllllloooo?' *sounding as if shouting up a tunnel* 'I'm getting lonely down here!'**

**This- as you may have guessed- is the beginning of a story. It was originally written as a oneshot to relieve my writers block on my other fic, yet ironically I'm finding this easier to write so it's going to continue and hopefully become something remotely interesting ;) **  
><strong>There are lots of DumbledoreGrindelwald fics- I'm going to go with Galbus (Gellert/Albus)- but I haven't read many that put them into the 'real world'. I'm going to try, but bear with me, I don't know how this is going to work out. I hope you enjoy, and stick around for the rest of it. I swear that I'll try to update regularly! **

_**Disclaimer: No, I don't own the characters or some of the items. Huge supprise there. Although, I do believe that I may in fact own the plot. :D That makes me feel slightly better...**_

_'Discovering truths about ones self is often the hardest path to take, yet discovering truths about ones relations and friends is often equally hard and cruel to the heart.' _

Albus gave a groan as his bottle of Frizzease stubbornly refused to allow its contents onto his hand. It gave an exasperated huff as he squeezed it, as if intending to show its displeasure at the pounding it was taking. Of all the times it could have chosen to run out, it had to be now- right before he was due to meet Elphias. Dumbledore tried in vain to smooth his flyaway auburn hair, with little effect. There wasn't a day went by that he didn't envy the effortlessly stylish crops of his idols, but he couldn't bear the thought of cutting his hair. It almost made him shudder considering it. Hair was indeed a precious gift, and he lamented the idea of losing it.

Resigning himself to the fact that he was doomed to look a mess, Albus stared into the mirror, trying to think of some strategy to improve his appearance. He had never liked his nose; it was far too big in his opinion and only made his lips look thinner. He prodded it moodily before smoothing clear gloss onto his lips to hopefully draw attention away from it. There had been many self debates about getting it fixed, but they always ended with the proclamation that natural was better. Anyway, he had long since decided that his eyes were his best feature and strived to make them the first thing someone noticed about him.

He had tried various methods to achieve this- some with better effect than others- but generally kept it understated with his makeup. Earlier that year he had started to experiment with the various items that his friends lent him during the term at school. Accumulated mascaras, unwanted liners, anything they had no need for; but none ever seemed quite his colour. He had tried multiple looks. Turning up to various events that year with extravagantly made up eyes: deep purple to bring out his blue, reds and gold to support his house, and even orange once for Halloween. Naturally, after he had decided that such products were indeed of benefit, he ventured out and brought his own. It was a fairly amusing trip to watch the cashier's face as he dumped a basket full of cosmetics on the counter after his friends had already paid and were waiting. She seemed perplexed to say the least, he smiled at the memory.

Now, putting the finishing flicks of silver liner to his eyes, Albus found himself missing his friends. It was an irrelevant longing really, as he was about to meet his best one, but he desired the others too. He hadn't heard from any of them in a while, and was craving a superficial chat or gossip. They had a knack of banishing whatever troubles were pursuing him; things were always far more complicated at home.

He was made to care for his sister and brother while his mother was busy keeping to herself. She seemed to become more distant every time Albus spoke to her, but he often heard her laughing with Aberforth and his sister. He tried not to think that she disliked him specifically, yet it was an immense act of will. She certainly seemed to be trying her hardest to avoid him. The silences had never been this long, even after his father was arrested. It was as if something had changed over the past year, and for all his intelligence and knowledge he couldn't fathom what.

He was still succeeding highly at his boarding school; getting top marks every time. Some of his works and essays had even been published in well respected magazines and papers, but she seemed not to care. Every new award he brought home only affected a nod, and sometimes even went unnoticed. The cabinet in the hall that had housed all of his trophies and certificates was slowly being emptied. Pictures of him seemed to be vanishing periodically. But worst of all, he had heard his mother telling Aberforth to 'let Albus alone for now, I fear he may have bad influence on you'. It was like she was deleting him from their lives, shutting him out from his family. He and Aberforth had always been close. They shared everything, and Albus often helped him solve problems that neither thought appropriate for their mother to know. What had he done to deserve this? What could possibly make his own mother shy away from him in disgust?

Shaking the hated thoughts from his mind before his eyes could grow wet; Albus scrabbled around to find his phone. He needed distraction now. If none came soon he was going to end up with mascara trailing down his cheeks. His friends would understand, they had never failed him in the past and were probably just busy, accidently forgetting about him. He flipped open the small purple device and searched his contacts for someone to divert him, quickly settling on a number.

After a good half hour of different excuses, Albus lay back on his bed in frustration. He was right in thinking that his friends were all very busy. They seemed to have no time spare for him, and were reluctant to make commitments to meet up. Was everyone avoiding him?

He felt the familiar ache in his stomach as he contemplated their behaviour toward him. This happened more than he cared to think. First everything would be fine and he would feel like he finally belonged, then inexplicably everything would turn sour. Over the few years that he had attended his school he was sure that he must have been accepted then rejected by over half the groups.

His inability to fit was definitely worsening as he progressed through the school. People had started whispering behind his back, laughing at snide remarks when they thought he wasn't looking. Yet he always saw. He didn't miss the prolonged looks, the avoidance, but he never let show how badly it affected him. He had decided not to hide himself any longer, and with that came the commitment of facing the rest of the word.

Of course he knew that it wasn't just his preferences that kept people away, but they certainly helped. Since he had begun allowing himself expression in his clothing and cosmetic choices, even less people seemed comfortable around him. They gave him an almost offensively wide berth. His academia also didn't help the situation much. Whereas people could have simply ignored him like he wasn't special, he was almost forced upon them. He was fast growing tired of his name being called in assembly, or being forced in front of the class to read his latest essay. If they didn't want to acknowledge him, then he saw no reason to flaunt himself- he didn't count his makeup or wardrobe as flaunting, as he did that purely for himself. He wanted acceptance; but who would ever accept the suck-up gay son of a murderer?

At first he hadn't believed it when his mother had revealed what his father had done. It was completely out of character. All of his memories showed a laughing, happy man who cared for everyone, no matter who they were. Not the man who had taken a hunting rifle and killed three teenagers. It was as much a revelation that, only until his father had been gone for over a year, did Albus finally accept it as the truth. He had never been angry at his father, and with every passing day he missed him more. His father would have loved him for who he truly was.

It had taken a long time for Albus to get up the courage to discover why his father had acted as he did. His mother rebuffed his questions at every junction, and scolded him severely for bringing up the subject. She had clearly forgotten that Albus had intelligence superior to many twice his age; and access to the internet. A few days careful research had told him all he wanted to know. He had easily unravelled years of careful secrecy at the age of fifteen in under a week. It was good by even his standards.

Despite his pleasure at finally having the truth at his disposal, he still couldn't control the tears that fell when he read. After nearly a year since first knowing, he still had trouble dealing with it sometimes; especially when he heard Arianna whimpering in her sleep in the room next door.

Ariana had been so young when it happened; it made him sick to think about it. The boys had stolen from her all that was pure and left their mark inside her. They had forcibly taken what should have been hers to give away. They had destroyed her perfect innocence, and ruined what could have grown to be a true beauty. Albus understood why his father had killed them all too well, and it frightened him to realise that he would have done the same.

A knock at his door startled him from his remise. He nearly fell of the bed in shock and hastily whipped his reddened eyes

"Albus?" Aberforth whispered, clearly distressed to find his older brother crying. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing Ab, I'm fine," he replied in a barely controlled voice. "Did you want anything?" Aberforth remained staring at him, hoping for some form of elaboration.

"Only that if you don't leave soon you'll be late for Doge," he resigned- Albus was impossible to get through to when he was in this mood. "Are you sure? You know you can tell me"

"You're right. I am going to be late," Albus said briskly, and rushed from the room without a backwards glance. Once again, he had avoided confiding, shutting himself off from everyone who could have helped. He walked faster than usual, eager to bury his troubles in idle chatter, and several glasses of Butterbeer.

**So that was the first slug at it. What did everyone think? :)**

**You know how important reviews are in helping to make work better, so please leave me one. I know it's a pain, but one sentence would satisfy me- even a word to show what you thought would do! I love hearing what people are thinking because it's really to easy to take meaning from your own work. I want to make sure everything is coming out right. **

**Also, I'm sorry that there wasn't much happening, I wanted to make sure that his history was clear before continuing. He will meet Grindelwald when he gets back to school, and that's very close to happening so stick around- well maybe a chapter or two away...**

**Thanks for reading, you are all fantastic, and HAPPY ROYAL WEDDING DAY. I currently have red, white, and blue nails. Hopefully some of you would have been invited to a party of something- unlike me- but I'm not conplaining. Much. :D **

_**Et me ipsum, ut de me mihi  
><strong>_


	2. Sorry Guys D:

Hi everybody,

No, I haven't died or been involved in a serious accident. There is no excuse for why I haven't updated, except that a hell of a lot has come up.

The past few weeks have been crazy and things aren't scheduled to improve. I've got like four concerts and school stuff to work around so I'm probably not going to get anything done. I'm really sorry, and if I get time I will try and write :S

The school year's nearly-ish over, so there may be a wait but then I'll work this out. Things should start to look up, and I know I suck D:

Hope you all don't hate me too much,

Love Ellie

:(


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